Taming The Wild Beast
by ScribblesOfLove
Summary: They were your modern Romeo and Juliet; they were madly in love. And just like Romeo and Juliet, everything seemed to keep them apart. Smitchie/Jemi. Implied Naitlyn. Rated T.
1. Prologue

**Taming the Wild Beast**

**Prologue**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

I am not one to give in. Especially when it comes to the _other_ _species_, or more specifically, guys. I was a small town girl, given the chance of a lifetime to attend a prestigious music camp. A camp that almost nobody knew of, because the people that went there? They became famous. Famous enough that they required their roots to be covered up, all traces of possible humanity and shady pasts cleaned up.

Then we start to talk about a certain rock star whose name strikes hormones in thousands of teenage girls. Shane Gray. And I, myself being a teenage girl, do get hyperactive if I see him on television or my laptop screen. But of course I have an excuse, and excuse that gives me the right to attack all the fan girls with a hammer. He is, after all, my boyfriend. Something about those perfectly hazel eyes, that stupid floppy black hair and that beyond angelic voice just made me give in. After all, he _was_ Shane Gray.

What I _didn't_ know was that meeting Shane Gray made your life a whole lot complicated, especially when you just want to smash your lips onto his and have a full blown make out session in a mess hall. But I dare say it was not his –if you excuse me- hotness that made life so very complicated, for it was him.

Entirely, purely, him.

**A/N: Hey you guys! This is the rather short prologue to my upcoming Smitchie story, Taming the Wild Beast, which I will start updating after I'm done with Eighteen and Famous. This is just to give you a quick taste of my future work besides the many one-shots which I have done so far. **

**Please R&R to let me know if you like the story idea, if I don't get many positive comments I may decide not to continue this story and concentrate on my one-shots instead, as I appreciate reader feedback. **

**Thank you!**

**~Erin **


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

Mitchie Torres flipped her bright hair out of the way as she stepped out of the newly-polished bus. It was dark brown, with the words Camp Rock emblazoned showily on the side. It had taken her hours to get to the prestigious camp. She had arrived late and was soon lost in a flurry of students and their expensive haircuts. She blew self-consciously at her straggly bangs, slinging her guitar over her shoulder; as she picked up her single suitcase. Judging by the looks of the other students- and well, their luggage- she was the only one who had to pay for the camp herself. She stepped forward, red hair blowing daintily- she hoped- in the cool autumn breeze. Just then, she tripped over the tassels on her imitation Uggs, and fell headfirst into a shimmery blue top.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" A blonde- and owner of the top- whirled around and snapped at Mitchie.

"Um, sorry. I wasn't looking and just… tripped."

After giving her the good ol' up-down, the blonde smirked, noticing her non-designer skinny jeans. "Cute top," she sneered.

Not noticing her sarcastic tone, Mitchie grinned at her new green blouse. "Thanks I got it from…"

"Goodwill?" Without another word, the mean girl turned around again, and mouthed quite plainly to the Asian-looking girl behind her one familiar word – Loser.

Mitchie started to blush, but was soon interrupted by a bright-eyed brunette pushing through the crowd, dark hair bouncing like a shampoo commercial.

"Hey." She greeted Mitchie, and then turned to face the blonde, with a cavernous I-am-going-to-take-great-pleasure-in-destroying-you grin. "So Tess," _Ah, so her name was Tess. _"Did mommy give you a couple thousand bucks to buy yourself another _friend_?" She pointed at the Asian girl who was busy admiring her –admittedly flawless- complexion in a tiny pink compact. She looked up, with a look of intense surprise on her face. "Is this foundation too much?" She hissed.

"You sure know how to pick the smart 'uns." And grabbing Mitchie's wrist, slithered through the chuckling crowd, announcing that the air seemed too polluted over there and why don't they get to the front?

"Hey, thanks." Mitchie eventually stopped, taking the opportunity to pull away from the brunette's iron grip. "I owe you one."

"No problem. I'm always trying to find ways to piss Tess off. I'm Caitlyn. You're new, aren't you?" Caitlyn extended her right hand.

"Actually, I'm Mitchie. Nice to meet you."

Caitlyn shook Mitchie's hand vigorously, pleased. "Nice to know _someone_ around here has a sense of humor. And don't worry about the wicked witch's smart ass comment. I think your top looks hot."

Mitchie furrowed her brows together in disbelief. After all, Caitlyn was the one wearing an authentic black bomber jacket.

"Well, I wouldn't wear it." She noticed Mitchie's expression and smiled. "But it looks totally awesome on you. Plus, I love your hair."

"Thanks. You have no idea how many bad red-head jokes I've heard. Tess looks familiar, do I know her?"

"You should, her mom's T.J Tyler." Caitlyn replied in a tone which would have been more appropriate to order a burger.

"No way!" Mitchie's mouth fell wide open. "She's won like a million awards! Which reminds me, Tess _did_ open for one of her shows."

"With her rendition of a lame-ass Britney Spears song? Yes."

The two girls then giggled, and lifted their heads in time as the microphone screeched, and camp instructor Brown Cessario took the stage.

--------------

"So. Who are you staying with? I've got a spare bed in my cabin. Just asking because they always make the new kids find their own roommates. It's insane."

"Actually, I would really like to room with you."

"Great!" Caitlyn grinned. "You know, I usually like the cabin to myself. My boyfriend sneaks over. But last year we kind of got busted by Brown and I worried about who I was going to room with. Good thing I found you. You're pretty cool."

Mitchie was relieved. She was never popular; instead, she was used to pointing, stares, and laughter. Having bold and sarcastic Caitlyn as a friend was a great joy as they chattered and walked back to the cabin.

"Okay. This is Percussion Cabin. Don't laugh, I know the name sucks." Caitlyn swung open the door to reveal a familiar curly head.

"Surprise." Nate Gray smirked, pulling Caitlyn into a bear hug, kissing her gently on her forehead.

"I missed you so much!" Caitlyn shrieked, kissing him back.

Mitchie sunk into a bright beanbag, dropping her luggage. _Oh my goodness. Nate Gray is in the same room as me. _

Caitlyn, eventually detached herself from her boyfriend, and threw a few of her bags at him. "Help me unpack, would you?"

Nate, stolid and quiet, started to unzip one.

"Oh no wait! Don't touch that one. Take this one." Caitlyn threw another rucksack at him. 'That one contains… personal articles."

"I don't even want to know." Nate tossed the bag back, and caught the other one, unpacking layers of neatly-folded jeans and shirts.

Mitchie however, sat silently in a corner, still very much star-struck. Caitlyn turned around. "Hey Mitchie… Mitchie?" She danced over, and flailed her arms in front of Mitchie. "Are you… okay?"

"Caity. You _did_ tell her we were dating… didn't you?" Nate raised his right eyebrow expectedly at his feisty girlfriend.

Caitlyn's lips formed a perfect 'o', and she brought a manicured hand over her mouth. "Oops?" She offered, and ignored Nate's eye roll to drag Mitchie back up to her feet. "I am _so sorry_! I'm just so used to him around. Mitchie?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." _Good, it speaks. _Mitchie found her voice, and tugged her hair back again. "I'm Mitchie."

"I'm Nate." He extended his hand, but drew back again as Caitlyn slapped him on the wrist.

"She _knows_ who you are stupid, thus, the mild heart attack?" She shook her curls, fluffing them into a loose updo.

"Right. Sorry."

"You're _dumb_." Caitlyn snapped good-naturedly.

"But I kiss well."

"Can you prove it?"

As the two leaned forward, Mitchie prepared to turn away, only to be interrupted by the cabin door slamming open.

"Nate, I need my straightener. Gosh, you two _never_ take a rest, do you?" Shane Gray burst through the door, left side of his raven-black hair curling into a knot. Noticing Mitchie, he turned. "And who the hell are _you_?"

**A/N: I hoped you guys liked the first ever chapter! I got some nice reviews the first time, so I'm asking for even more this time round! Tell me what you think! **

**PS: This story is not my first priority right now, which is currently Eighteen And Famous, my Nelena/Nalex story which will be coming to a wrap very soon. **

**Check **_**that**_** out, over here: fan fictio n. net/s/4912159/1/Eight een_And_Famous  
Remove all spaces! **

**~Erin**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

"_That _is my roommate since _you_ busted me and Nate last year. Thanks a whole lot, Gray. Come to terms with your sexuality yet?" Caitlyn snapped, turning around abruptly.

Shane brushed off her obvious dislike for him, replying with a sort of high-and-mighty air. "I was looking for my brother. Do you mind removing yourself from his chest for a minute?"

"Nate." She looked up at her boyfriend, hazel eyes begging for some backup. He seemed to agree with whatever insult- could it have been anything else? - she had directed at Shane and stared at him with distaste. "What is it, Shane?"

"Send me home! Look, I learnt my lesson. I showered in cold water and look what happened!" He lifted up a strand of curly hair. "I'm _frizzing_!" He said the word in the same way that Mitchie's mother would have said 'McDonalds."

"Dude, you almost got arrested. Just stay here, do your time and maybe we can finally do the tour. _Pop _star." Nate rolled his eyes, then turned back and placed a quick kiss on Caitlyn.

"_Rock_ star!" Shane was obviously offended. "And just sleep with your stupid girlfriend already so she'd break up with you. I'm sick and tired of seeing your tongue in her mouth all the time."

_Oops._

"Oh F-" Nate clamped his hands over Caitlyn's mouth as she fought to contain herself. Various curious sounds of rage were produced as Nate wrapped his arms tighter around a very angry Caitlyn. "Get out before she really loses it, Shane!"

"Oh well." A mischievous twinkle appeared in Shane's eyes. "I guess I'll leave you two to get it _awn_!" He winked naughtily, dodging a black Steve Madden as it flew across the room from Caitlyn's -who else? - direction.

"Shaane…" Nate was failing to restrain Caitlyn as her hand once again trailed down to her ankle.

"Okay… okay…" He headed for the door, red Converse squeaking in the most infuriating way possible. As he opened it, he turned around again to cast one last wink at Mitchie. "See you around, red head."

Mitchie sank onto the bean bag again, knees now useless.

Nate finally released Caitlyn as she staggered across the room with one boot on, growling insults at Shane. He then collapsed onto her bed, curly hair in a sweaty mop. "Have you been going for your group therapy sessions, Caity?"

"What?" Caitlyn turned around, looking innocent. It was now obvious to Mitchie, the more innocent Caitlyn looked, the more she had done or was about to do something wrong. "Umm… I may have missed a few sessions."

Nate sat up again, narrowing his chocolate-brown eyes at her. "_A few_? You attacked him with your _boot_!"

"Okay. Maybe more than a few…" She tried to save herself again before giving in and sitting down next to him. "I'm sorry! But the lady she was blonde, and you know I have a problem with them, and then she said something about finding your 'inner peace' so I was like, what? What is she, from some kind of peace cult? "

"Caity. I said you need to go for your sessions. You promised! That was the deal."

"I'm so sorry. I swear. You can enroll me with a new therapist okay, please Natey? Please?" She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Fine. But you promise to attend them? _Every_ session?"

"Yesiree!" Caitlyn knew she was forgiven and jumped up, happy once again. "So Mitchie, ready for Opening Night Jam? Mitchie?" She skipped over noisily. "Oh my _gosh_." She exclaimed in terror. "Nate!"

He jumped up, hurrying over. "What? Is she okay?"

"Check out her eyes. She's fallen into the Gray trap!" Caitlyn slapped Mitchie on her cheek.

"Ow!" She protested. "What was that for?"

Caitlyn, not bothering to apologize, pulled Mitchie to her feet. "Listen to me. Do not, I repeat, do _not_, fall in love with Shane Gray. Falling in love with the other half of the Gray Brothers is always complete and utter _suicide_!"

"Why?" Mitchie rubbed her swollen cheek. "He always seemed sweet."

"Point being 'seemed'." The brunette folded her arms angrily over her chest. "Did you know during his last interview he threw a diva-fit because the water they gave him wasn't _chilled_?"

Mitchie remained silent.

"And when they didn't have any _chilled_ water he stomped out!" Caitlyn ended her story with several meaningful glances at Nate.

"But-"

"No buts! He is a complete diva! You can get someone much better. Now you must get ready for Jam, and change to something nice. It's always custom to dress up for any performances here at camp."

Mitchie gave in, and made her way to her luggage, unzipping the only rucksack that she carried. Unlike Caitlyn, daughter of a famous music producer, Mitchie was born into a middle-class family who didn't always have money to spare. Often self conscious, she never quite got over the fact that she wasn't exactly what was defined as popular.

"That's _all_ you have?" Caitlyn finally noticed her pathetic heap of clothes. Mitchie kept silent, unsure of what to say. She eventually noticed Caitlyn rummaging through her fourth – yes, _fourth_- suitcase, and pulling out a short red dress with a thick rose-colored sash. "You _are_ going to wear this."

Overwhelmed by her generosity, Mitchie simply held it against her slender frame, eyes glistening with tears. "Thank you," she managed out.

"No problem. It will look beautiful on you." Caitlyn's expression softened. "I'm going to change. You can change in here. Nate, _please_ get lost."

"Caity."

"_Mitchie_ needs to change, Nate. See you later. And don't forget to draw the curtains, Mitch!" Caitlyn shut the adjoined-bathroom's door.

"See you around, Mitchie. Sorry about Shane." Nate made his way to the door, making sure to bid adieu to his new acquaintance. As he shut the door, Mitchie picked up the soft red dress again, breathing in the sweet smell of Caitlyn's kiwi body scent. She turned the dress around, checking the label, sucking in air sharply when she did. She had known that Caitlyn had money, she just hadn't known _how_ much. As something in the bathroom clanged, she knew that Caitlyn would be coming out soon and that she needed to get changed _right_ _now_.

--------------

Mitchie tugged uncomfortably at the hem of her dress as Caitlyn fussed with her makeup in the mirror. "Can you please stop fidgeting, Mitch? You look fantastic."

"Sure?" Mitchie was unused to the short cut of the dress and had let her hair curl naturally down to her shoulders. Paired with a few of Caitlyn's vintage necklaces and her own black jacket, she spun once on her favorite black wedges.

"You _do_." Caitlyn was much more interested at giving herself a smoky eye; fascinated by the way Mitchie had effortlessly swept on her mascara. "Is this right?"

"Perfect." Mitchie smiled shakily. She was unsure of whether she looked right, casting quick glances in the mirror.

"You look great." Caitlyn eventually, satisfied with her make up, stood up and pulled on Mitchie's jacket. "Now tell me. Rate my outfit. 10 being the highest."

"Definite 10." Mitchie smiled. Caitlyn was wearing a gorgeous emerald green mini dress with cap sleeves. She had layered a long-sleeved gray tunic underneath, paired with matching tights, Steve Madden ankle boots and a drop-waist black rhinestone belt.

"Well, you're a 20." Caitlyn said.

"No way." Mitchie shook her head disbelievingly.

"Yes way!"

"_No way_."

"Yes. Now can we please go? I can hear campers making their way to the mess hall already!" Caitlyn stomped her foot impatiently.

"Calm down already, Miss Patience." Mitchie stuck out her tongue and swung open the cabin door, feeling the cool autumn air on her cheeks.

--------------

"Whoa." Shane Gray's jaw slacked as he noticed a curly-haired girl enter the room, short red dress similar to a rose. _A very pretty rose, he wanted to add._ She was the only one dressed for the weather, as all the other girls had obviously decided to freeze their butt's off in tanks tops and mini-skirts. A blonde bumped against him, flirtatiously grinning when he turned around to notice her. "Sorry." He muttered, weaving his way through the crowd, exclaiming in annoyance when his brother jerked him back and he lost sight of his mystery girl. "What is it, Nate?"

"Please don't stagger into my cabin in the early morning with a random girl. I do not appreciate your _habits_." He spat the last word in his face. "I need to find Caitlyn."

"There she is!" Shane jerked forward again, noticing the Caitlyn with his girl. "I'll get her!"

"Are you okay, bro?" Nate grew suspicious.

"Yeah. Just let me get your girlfriend. She has a friend with her." _And doesn't that friend just happen to be gorgeous. _

"Don't do anything Shane, remember, Uncle Brown is around."

Shane ignored his brother, running through the hordes of dancing students. The red head was now moving to Just Dance by Lady Gaga, hands raised in the air as she bumped against Caitlyn. Her eyes- amber, he noticed- where in perfect sync with her upturned lips as she sang along to the song, each fiery glance she accidentally sent in his direction burning ladders up his spine.

"Gellar!" He called out loudly, watching as she stopped to narrow her hazel eyes at him. "Your boyfriend wants you." And stopped her as she grabbed her friend's hand, prepared to pull her along. "I'll take care of your pal. Hurry along now!" He pushed Caitlyn away eagerly, casting a naughty half-smile in the red head's direction.

**A/N: Whoa! Thriller! I think Shane comes off much sexier in real life than how I portray him. Now, I want to give you some stuff to review me on, so answer this cute little quiz when you review!**

**How much you liked the chapter: Rate 1 to 10, 10 being the best. **

**Whose outfit you liked more: **

**Which character you have fallen in love with so far:**

**Whether you would kiss Shane if he smiled at you: **

**Please review!**

**~Erin**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

For the first time in his life, Shane Gray found himself tongue-tied. Maybe it was because he was in such close _proximity_ with the girl, or maybe it was because up close, he now realized it had been the same pretty girl from Caitlyn's cabin. "Hi." He managed to regain his slick demeanor. "Have we met?"

The redhead, who had been looking up at him curiously since he had- dare he say it- rudely come between her and Caitlyn, smiled, a flicker of instant recognition in her dark eyes. "I'm Mitchie. From Caitlyn's cabin?"

"Ah. I figured there could only be so many pretty redheads in camp. I'm Shane." For once- for this girl (or rather, _Mitchie_) seemed to produce plenty of first times for him- he also felt the need to introduce himself. He watched her blush, and grinned, feeling the heat rush to his own cheeks as well. "Yeah. Um…" He trailed off as the song slowed down from the hip-gyrating beats of Lady Gaga, to a slow song he didn't recognize.

"Lifehouse." Mitchie smiled. "You and Me."

Shane almost grabbed her hand, until her realized that it was the name of the song she had referred to. Something about her smile, just made him blush. He would have very much liked to hide in the corner like a little pre-pubescent boy, just giggling to himself. But the Shane Gray that he portrayed refused to back down, and he heard himself ask her to dance. She blushed, red cheeks matching her hair, as she graciously accepted, but not after a second's hesitation.

"What's wrong?" He allows his arm to trace around her waist, ignoring the death-stares of the many other girls in the room. "I'm not going to feel you up or anything." He inwardly curses, realizing what he had just said. But thank goodness for him, Mitchie laughs, turning her head away as she does so.

"No." She turns back, still giggling. "I just never thought… oh goodness; please don't take offence at this." She collapses into a heap of giggles again, as he looks down at his skinny jeans and casual button-down. He _was _wearing pants.

"Tell me." He whines, then stops, noticing exactly how odd he sounds.

But she doesn't seem to notice, and instead, manages to gasp out, "I never thought, oh gosh, Shane Gray could _dance_!" The last word was shrieked softly, if that was even possible – then again, with Mitchie, anything seemed possible- and he took it as a indirect 'all systems go', guiding her tiny fingers to his shoulder. "Watch me."

That seemed to silence her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to catch a whiff, but just a whiff, of her kiwi scented leave-in conditioner. "You smell nice." He muttered, then turned away, abashed, when she cocked her head up in surprise.

"Well." She spoke, causing him to look straight into her amber pupils. "You do too." And they continued to spin slowly on the dance floor, him never stepping on her feet, her seemingly unable to do otherwise. But it was still a special moment for Shane-if not for his toes-, and something new for him.

The song ended all too quickly. She politely thanked him for the dance, and went over to join Caitlyn who she had spotted. Shane frowned, and followed after her, shaking off clingy fans as nicely as possible. He spotted her through a throng of people, and was just about to follow her when he was yanked backwards by the arm. "Ouch!"

"You. Are not breaking another girl's heart tonight, Shane. You're here to get PR for the band, not score yourself another _bed buddy_."

Shane found himself scowling into the mass of curly hair that was his brother. "Would you stop being a dickwad, Nate?"

"What the hell is a dickwad even supposed to _be_?"

"Oh… go ask your girlfriend!" Shane yanked his arm fiercely away, stomping through the crowd. Mitchie was gone. "Shit," he cursed loudly, not caring if anyone heard. It seemed that the little Texan girl was much more complicated than he thought. And yet, in all her complexity, she was still the best PR he had _ever_ done.

**A/N: I'm sorry for the short-ness of this! It's just to sort of fill the space, I know I haven't written in forever. Thanks to all the lovely reviews the last time! How about you guys double my reviews this time? Can I get forty reviews by the time I post my next chapter? **

**Please review! And do my little survey!**

**Which song comes to your mind when you think 'Shane'.**

**What song comes to your mind when you think 'Mitchie'.**

**What song comes to your mind when you think '**_**Smitchie'**_**.**

**How much you liked this chapter, on a scale of 1 to 10. **

**How quickly you would like me to update, on a scale of 1 to 10, ten being the fastest. **

**~Erin. 3**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

Shane was the most jealous he had ever been in a lifetime. He had managed to track down Mitchie- with another guy's arm around her waist. Caitlyn- yes, he knew her name, he just pretended to forget it sometimes- was standing nearby, her hand linked through Nate's as she introduced Mitchie to the man standing next to her. She said his name, what was it? John? _Jane_? James. He struck a nearby table angrily. Fuck James, when Shane Gray wanted something, he sure as hell got it. He tried to push himself through the crowd that had miraculously formed in front of him, but not before a blonde girl traced her arms around his waist, winking. Not surprisingly, it was the very same blonde from just two minutes ago.

"Um. Excuse me; I have to attend to something." He tried to get loose, being as polite as possibly.

"C'mon, _Shanie._ You and I both know you want me." She started grinding her hips on his jeans, pouting slightly.

"Not really." Usually Shane would have just taken her and left, but right now Mitchie was the important thing on his mind.

He turned his head again, irritated at the fact that James had now pulled Mitchie in for a dance, his hands on her waist. The one thing that was different however? _Mitchie. _She appeared to be _grinding _herself up and down James's leg, lips parted seductively. Shane snorted unhappily, until he noticed something about her eyes. It may have been the crazed, wild look that had not been in her amber pupils just ten minutes ago, or the fact that her drink had now become a glossy _purple_. Orange juice was not _purple_. He growled- rather like a territorial wolf- and stormed over, black eyes like little onyx marbles. He would not allow Mitchie to be like_ that. _Not all over another guy, drunk from a spiked drink. He was pretty sure who had spiked her drink as well. "Move." He snapped at James, pulling Mitchie away.

"Oh Shane. Shane!" She slurred, collapsing into his arms, eyes shut.

"Dude. We were just having a little fun." James protested, his dark brown hair showing evidences of artificial caramel highlights.

"Get her coat." Shane noticed that Mitchie no longer had her black coat on, and picked her up, bridal-style.

"C'mon, man..."

"Her _coat_." Shane, leaning over with Mitchie still lying in his outstretched arms, grabbed the black garment from James, letting it rest over her torso as he walked out. "We are leaving." He muttered under his breath, leaving Mister Fake-Highlights-James in his _dust_.

Shane 1. James 0.

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The last place Mitchie Torres thought she would be on her second morning in camp was Shane Gray's bed. She had woken up with a terrible throbbing feeling all across her head, and moaned uncomfortably, not noticing the tall handsome rock star sleeping on the floor. "Oh God no," she muttered, and then noticed that she was still wearing her dress from the night before. "What happened?" She inched herself off the bed, grabbing the white bathrobe that lay limply by the side, whipping it on over her low-cut dress. Mornings were deathly cold, and very different from the weather she was used to. Shane stirred, and groaned as he pushed himself off the floor. It was then that Mitchie noticed the pile of towels that he had obviously used as a pillow. It was also about then that she noticed that he was not wearing a shirt.

"Bitch, that hurts." He sat up, grasping at his broad shoulders uncomfortably.

"Good morning." Mitchie realized it was his robe that she was wearing, and hesitantly held it out to him, feeling her cheeks freeze under the cold air.

"Keep it." He stood up, tossing a pile of clothes that lay on an armchair over to her. "These are for you." They were a pair of black skinny jeans and a plaid button-down. "Sorry I didn't get you back to your cabin, I tried, but Caitlyn was there with Nate, and now I'm scarred for life." He rolled his eyes, ruffling his long, now-curly black hair, while somehow pulling on a gray t-shirt.

Mitchie raised her eyebrows, and padded softly across the room. "The bathroom?" she asked, ignoring the drum-beat in her head to take in every inch of him.

"Down that way."

Once she locked the door with a soft click, she pulled of her red dress, and tugged the dark red-shirt over her hair. Her fiery auburn locks looked disastrous, but Shane probably wouldn't have been too happy if she used his hair product. The shirt was a little big for her, but it was _her, _somehow, and the jeans fit just nice. Shane had really skinny legs, for a guy. She stepped out, awkwardly throwing her dress over her shoulder. "What happened?"

"Your drink," Shane thumped angrily on his closet door as she saw him throw a fresh pair of jeans on the bed. "Was spiked." He looked up, and she noticed his bushy black eyebrows lift just so as he took in her appearance. "Can you get back yourself?" He seemed flustered, so she nodded, and closed the door behind her as she left.

--------------

As Mitchie slammed her cabin door shut, Caitlyn stirred in her bed. Apparently, Nate had come- and gone. "Wake up, Caitlyn. We have class." Caitlyn murmured something indistinguishable, and turned over, before sitting up in bed, blinking her eyes rapidly in an effort to stay awake. She then sat up quickly, eyes now glossy and bright. "Is that a guy's clothes?"

"Mm." Mitchie muttered, turning her head away from her friend's curious stare.

"Holy crap! Who was it? Was he any good?" Caitlyn jumped out of bed, dancing around in her lime green Juicy sweatpants.

"I was just from Shan-"

"The _fucking_ rapist! I'm going to rip his lungs out!" Caitlyn cut Mitchie off abruptly, tossing on her boots and stomping towards the door, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was still very much undressed.

"Caitlyn!" Mitchie ran towards the door, wheeling her roommate around. "He didn't rape me, would you please shut the door and listen to me!"

"So you _willingly_ fucked him?" Caitlyn's energy was suddenly gone, and she sank onto her bed with a resigned look to her.

"No." Mitchie sighed, taking a deep breath. "My drink was spiked, and Shane figured he needed to get me out of there as quick as possible, but this cabin was otherwise _occupied,_" She stared meaningfully at Caitlyn who blushed, eyes cast downwards, and continued, "so he brought me back to his. And this morning he gave me his shirt because I didn't have anything else."

"Oh." Caitlyn grimaced. "What do you _see_ in him?"

"I don't _see_ anything!" Mitchie unbuttoned Shane's shirt, tossing it on her bed, and pulled out an emerald-green blouse instead, slipping it over her head. She then slipped of his jeans, and yanked on her own navy skinnies, paired with her favorite pair of boots. "He just happened to be there last night."

"Yeah right, Torres." Caitlyn snorted, "I see the way you look at him." She yanked a slouchy gray top over black leggings. "Just," she hesitated, stopping to rest a hand on her waist. "Be careful, all right? C'mon, we have class to attend." She pulled the door open, brunette ringlets bouncing off her shoulders.

--------------

"Rule one." Shane snapped, and Mitchie rolled her eyes. The Shane that was teaching her Advanced Guitar Class was obviously not the one that had taken her in less than twenty-four hours ago. "My name is Shane. I do not require reminders about my last name. 'Shane Gray' or 'Mister Gray' will not be accepted. Neither is 'dude' or 'shawty'." The final statement caused the class to erupt into laughter- laughter that was soon silenced by another cold stare. "Rule two," Shane circled the class that was sitting on the bleached hardwood floor. "No exceptions. If you can play, you can. If you can't, I don't give out of class help."

"Even for _me_?" Tess raised her hand, blue eyes bright. Mitchie truly had no idea what she was doing in the class. Last time she checked, Tess was only good at _pretending_ she was.

"No." Shane turned around. "Now, let's start with the lesson. Everybody start with a c-chord…"

Before long, Mitchie had once again lost herself in her music, changing the notes as and when it seemed _right_.

"Watch it, Torres." Shane seemed to enjoy calling everyone by their last name. "I said e-chord, not g."

"But g is-" Mitchie broke off. "Sorry."

"Class dismissed!" Shane called, and everybody scattered, somehow afraid of the dark haired teenager. Mitchie sucked in air. She _was_ going to talk to him, no matter how jerk-ish he had decided to be.

"So um," Mitchie watched Shane pick up his own shiny electric guitar. "Thanks. For last night. Here are your clothes." She held out the garments that she had brought along, thrusting them in his face.

"You're welcome." Shane straightened up as he slung his guitar over his shoulder, black eyes no longer emotionless. He smiled, a weak, quick smile, but a smile nonetheless. He turned to leave, but changed his mind, turning around again. "Up for a canoe ride?" He grinned.

**A/N: Yay! Longer update for you reviewers!**

**Survey time!**

**Like it? Love it? Or hate it?**

**Why did you love/like/hate it?**

**Do you play an instrument? **

**What do you think Nate and Caitlyn were **_**doing**_** last night? Ha. **

**~Erin**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

Shane didn't really know what he was doing. One minute he was cursing at Brown for assigning him to be a guest teacher, and the next he was pulling this, pretty, _pretty_ girl through camp to the river when they were both supposed to be attending classes. But she had said yes, and needless to say, looked fabulous in his clothes. Now she wore another blouse, a dark green one, very similar to the one that she had on the first time he saw her. Except it hugged her small waist more closely, causing him to catch his breath every so often.

"And here we are. This would be Lake Rock. I _know_, it sounds like something from Barney." He stopped to toss her a lifejacket, "Why don't you put this on?"

She frowned at him, obviously not wanting the bulky vest. "I can swim." She pouted, dropping the lifejacket on the ground.

"Well, we don't want a pretty girl like you drowning, do we? It would be such a waste." Shane pushed it back at her. "Don't make me put in on for you," he teased, half hoping that she would tease him back and let him touch her again.

"All right, Mister Bossy." She stuck her tongue out at him, not seeming to notice his overly-flirtatious comments. She shoved the article over her head, buckling the black straps loosely at her sides. "All ready."

Shane tugged his own lifejacket on, and got into the unstable canoe, laughing as it rocked under his weight, doing his (in) famous superman pose. "Check me out, Mitch-o!" He grabbed her hand, and lifted her onto the boat, grinning as she laughed. She was so lovely.

"Thank you Mister Gray," she giggled, remembering his rules from class; sitting down on the small stool that was affixed to the wooden sides of The Crane, as was painted along the side of the canoe.

"Hey." Shane frowned. "Don't call me that."

"Why?"

"Just, because. I like Shane a lot better." Shane snapped, and then immediately regretted his reply when the corners of her mouth drooped. "Actually, you can call me anything you like." He saw her smile again, and was satisfied, relaxing in the small boat.

"Okay, then." Mitchie smiled naughtily, and then dipped her paddle into the water, splashing his immaculately done hair with a tsunami of water. "Buurrn!" She yelled, but gasped as he too cast a flurry of water into her face. "Oh no you _didn't_!"

Shane laughed along with her and was happy, and if he was going to be honest with himself, he was the happiest he had been in a long time. Just then, as he was about to splash her back, the canoe flipped over. Just like that. He must have bounced too hard in his seat, or perhaps she had done it just so he would fall into the water. Silly Mitchie. Mitchie! Using all his force, he flipped the canoe back over, noticing that she was swimming hastily for the bank, attempting to drain the water out of her hair. _Okay, so maybe she hadn't flipped it over on purpose._ "Shane!" She groaned unhappily as she pushed herself up onto the bank, ripping off her lifejacket.

He swam over quickly, hoisting himself next to her in one quick movement, pulling off his lifejacket along with his soaking wet gray v-neck. "I'm so sorry, I swear, I didn't mean to, I don't even know what I did…" Shane found himself apologizing profusely, patting her wet hair as if it would somehow miraculously dry by itself. She sank to the ground, burying her face in her crossed arms.

"Mitch?" Shane knelt down next to her, patting her on the back. "I'm so sorry I scared you Mitch, I'm never ever going to ride another canoe again."

"Hell yeah, you won't." Mitchie looked up, suddenly grinning, and with one swift push, flung him into the water.

"Oh!" Shane couldn't find the words to describe her. 'Beautiful', 'fantastic' and 'perfect' came to mind, although they didn't seem quite appropriate in the situation. He reached over, scowling as she bent over the edge of the lake to laugh at him, preparing to pull himself up, but changing his mind, pulled her into the water, and pushing her against the base of the canoe, kissed her hard.

At first she didn't respond, and he worried that she was still in shock. But she started kissing him back, her lips parted just so, her tongue grazing the edge of his bottom lip. That was when he kissed down her neck, biting softly at her collarbone. "Mitch", he rasped. It was about then that she seemed to come to her sense, pulling away quickly, pushing him up, wet hair curling rapidly, lips bruised. "Have you lost your mind?" She demanded, amber eyes more alight than ever.

"Not my mind," Shane was sure. He leaned in again, and she didn't resist, as they met each other with closed eyes. "But my heart," he murmured against her.

"We are going to get caught." Mitchie, mumbled, lips still attached to his. He nodded, pulling away, and rowing the boat silently back to the bank, casting several cursory glances at her. She was looking away, playing with her wet hair, biting on her bottom lip. Shane turned away to look at the bank, and finally noticed why she looked so worried. Brown.

"Shane Adam Gray! Michelle Torres!" Brown yelled, "Come out of that canoe this instance!" _Ooh. Angry Australian man. _

"Michelle, I am disappointed." Brown clearly knew Mitchie from somewhere, probably class. "Get back to your cabin and change before you fall sick. Shane, follow me." He pulled Shane along, a firm grip on his arm. That was pretty much when Shane knew everything was going to go downhill.

--------------

Mitchie slammed her cabin door shut, pulling off her soaking wet blouse, and opened her suitcase. It had been a long walk back, yet everything that had just happened had been so surreal, and she needed more time to straighten her thoughts out. So Shane had kissed her, so she had kissed him back. So they had practically made out on the bottom of a canoe. Where did that leave her now? Mitchie selected a dark red v-neck shirt and a green sweater. And what was going to happen next?

Just then, she noticed a small piece of paper taped- with gum- to the header of her bed. She picked it up, and read it carefully.

_Mitchie:_

_Sorry about the gum. Brown is on the warpath. I need to see you again, if you want to see me. I'm sorry for kissing you. I need to tell you something important. Meet me at the lake again tonight, after 11. I will be waiting. _

_Shane. _

She scrunched the note shut, and thrust it under her pillow. She didn't want Caitlyn reading it, because she was most definitely meeting Shane again.

**A/N:**

**This is so short! I'm so sorry!**

**Let's just say I spent a lot of time researching the make out scene. ;)**

**I hope ya'll like this. **

**Oh, and something new!**

**I love long reviews, the more rambly and random the better. Thus, I am going to award a Longest Review prize after each chapter. **

**The winner for Chapter Four is the lovely **_**Mindless Scribbles**_**! I love this girl and he writing. Do go check her out!**

**Survey time:**

**What do you think is going to happen tonight? **

**Do you want more Naitlyn?**

**Say Elephant Socks three times!**

**Now say Apple. **

**Now say I Love Smitchie!**

**Remember what I said about long reviews! **

**~Erin**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

10:56.

Mitchie lay awake in bed, her head resting on her hands. Caitlyn was fast asleep, as, despite initial protests, Mitchie had tried to get her to fall asleep before midnight. She didn't want to keep Shane waiting long. She had so many questions, and so little answers. And she needed everything from and about him.

10:57.

She wanted to leave, to throw on her coat and rush to him. But it wasn't time. And both of them knew that meeting – even at night and in secret- would be extremely dangerous. He couldn't be seen with her, and preferably, she shouldn't be seen with him either.

10:58.

Mitchie slid out from beneath her covers. She only had a pair of black sweats on and a thin white shirt. Grabbing a matching black hoodie – it couldn't be _that_ cold, it was barely the end of October. - She stuffed her legs into Caitlyn's boots, praying that the grass was still damp from the afternoon's shower to minimize excessive noise.

10:59.

She was going to be late. She would have cursed if she wasn't so afraid that somebody would catch her. She was a good girl, and sneaking out of her cabin in the middle of the night wasn't exactly on her to-do list for camp. She shivered once. It was colder than she had imagined. Why hadn't she checked the forecast before running out without her coat? She ran through the grounds, trying to keep warm, not caring if anyone heard the crunching of leaves beneath her feet.

11:00.

She was at the lake. She had gotten there in time, thank goodness. But where was Shane? Just then, she spotted him leaning against a tree, dark bangs flopping in his face. 'Perfectly gay', Caitlyn called them. To Mitchie, they were just 'perfect'. He noticed her and walked over, frowning when he noticed her frozen lips. "I'm so sorry." He stripped off his black coat, draping it over her. "I had no idea it would be so cold."

"S'lright." Mitchie managed to mutter out. It _was_ cold, and she had no idea how he managed to keep warm in his jeans and black v-neck sweater. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"It's not urgent, I shouldn't have brought you out, and it's too cold..." Shane started babbling meaninglessly.

"Shut up and tell me already." Mitchie smiled as he tried to find the right words. "I'm here aren't I?"

"Mitchie." Shane thrust his hands into his pockets. "I know this is going to sound crazy, and I've just met you, but I love–" Shane cut himself off; steadied himself and continued, "I would love to take you out." He finished. "Go out with me on Saturday?" Saturdays were a day off for the students – a day for them to go to the nearby town or spend time with their friends. Initially, Mitchie had been worried about what she was going to do on her first Saturday. (Caitlyn had made it very clear she and Nate were going to catch The Time Travelers' Wife. Apparently, Nate had some sort of Rachel McAdams fetish and had caught every movie she had been in. Yes, _even_ Mean Girls.) Now, she sighed in relief, and stood nearer to him. _Uh, for body heat. _"I would love to."

"Oh, great." Shane smiled, but still appeared uneasy.

"Is something wrong?" Mitchie picked up on his mood straight away, and found herself instinctively shift her weight from one foot to the other apprehensively.

"No."

"Shane!" She protested. She didn't need moody, rock star Shane at that moment.

"I can't be seen with you during the week." Shane spat out, hatred swimming in his hazel eyes - they seemed to change color during the night, in the day they were simply brown-. "Brown, he's my manager, and my uncle. He thinks that I should appear _single_." He growled, fists clenched into tight balls. "I know this is ridiculous, but that was the condition for me to take you out." He released his fists, sighing. "I'm so sorry. I understand if you have changed your mind." He stood even nearer to her, wrapping his arms around her slight frame. _For body heat, totally. _

"Never." Mitchie looked up into his eyes, feeling her cheeks heat up. "I would never change my mind. But you need to promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"I'm agreeing to go out with Shane. Not Shane Gray, the rock star. There's another side of you that I can see. That's the side I want." Mitchie looked up into his eyes, and felt a surge of electricity pulse through her veins.

"With you, that's the only side there is to me. I promise I'm not going to hurt you." Shane smiled in relief, and lowered his head to her forehead, planting a light kiss just above her eyes. "You better get back to your cabin. I happen to know Caitlyn has an insomnia problem."

"All right," Mitchie agreed, somehow reluctantly. "See you on Saturday?" She asked, starting to turn around.

"I'm seeing you in class tomorrow, at about eleven." Shane grinned. "Have you forgotten?"

In fact, Mitchie _had_ forgotten. The Shane that was a guest instructor was a completely different person and she was afraid to meet that Shane again. "Yeah," she smiled weakly. "See you tomorrow then."

"See you." Shane let his smile fade away slowly, waved, and watched as she left, only leaving – Mitchie noticed- when she had left his sight.

--------------

"Ah, five, ah, six, ah five, six, seven eight!" Shane started the count as She Can Get It blasted from his white Macintosh. The dancers danced obediently to the beat, Mitchie enjoying herself most of all. Her cheeks were flushed, hair wild, and her impeccable sense of rhythm overcame her.

_Yeah she don't stop _

_She working' it all about _

_She moves it around the clock _

_And she can get it; sh-sh-she can get it_

One, two three, four. She counted silently in her head, joints loose. It was about then that she noticed Shane's suppressed smile in her direction and for his benefit, winked, and rolled her hips naughtily.

_Don't quit, the way that she moves it _

_She's making me lose my grip _

_And she can get it, sh-sh-she can g-g-get it_

She noticed his lips curve into a smirk, but an affectionate one, and laughed silently, never loosing her beat. He caught himself, remembering the class, and started counting again. Caitlyn, who apparently was just a talented dancer as producer started screaming for more challenging dance moves, as the rest of the class moaned- silently, of course. No one but Caitlyn dared criticize the Great Gray- and he stopped the music momentarily.

"Ya'll want challenging?" He called. "I'll give you challenging. Partner up, girl to guy!"

Everyone scuffled for partners, and Mitchie found herself staring straight at James, the dirty-blonde from the opening party. He was standing there awkwardly, scratching his head in a lost-puppy sort of way.

"Hey," she called. "Buddy up?"

He nodded, and she wove her way through to him, only briefly noticing Shane's disapproving stare. "Mitchie." She introduced herself. "James?"

"That's right." He held out his hand, which she shook firmly. "Met you at the party. You're some dancer," he commented, failing to mention exactly what had happened the night of the party. To Mitchie the details were still fuzzy, and she immediately assumed that he had meant her dance moves in class.

"Well-"

"Right!" Shane interrupted their conversation, casting a subtle glare in James' direction. "Gellar, Tatum." He called out to Caitlyn and her partner, Chad, a talented brunette dancer. "You called this upon yourself, _Gellar_." He hissed, punching the button on the music player.

_She knows just what she likes _

_No matter what the price _

_She got me hurting' bad, perfect tan, working' that _

_Looks like a million cash, well let me fill your glass _

_And there was money in the bed _

Caitlyn immediately snapped into action, allowing herself to move swiftly to the music, feet seemingly never touching the floor. The class whistled in appreciation, but quieting when they noticed Shane's agonized expression. Caitlyn however continued dancing, and she brought herself up to Chad, curling her finger towards herself, as if pulling him towards her.

He played along, winding himself around her, using his hands to control her puppet-style, before falling into perfect synchronization as they danced together, ending in an unbelievable pose on the floor.

Breaking into applause, Mitchie noticed that Shane couldn't bear to reprimand her, and only clapped louder, sending the class into rapturous applause. Shane snapped off the music. "Gellar, Tatum. Go ahead and pick the next song and dancer." Caitlyn stuck out her tongue at him, making Mitchie giggle, and flipping Shakira's Hips Don't Lie onto the music player.

"You're up, Mitch, James." She laughed at her cleverness, knowing very well how Shane felt about Mitchie.

Mitchie looked up, worried, as James pulled her to her feet. "Come on," he hissed. "Don't want to make the angry pop star mad." Mitchie almost laughed; after all, she wasn't supposed to let on that she knew Shane, in _that_ way. "All right," she relented. After all, it didn't do any harm to show Shane just how well she could dance.

James hooked her into his arms, and she brought a bare foot up to rest on his leg as the music started.

_I never really knew that she could dance like this _

_She makes a man want to speak Spanish, _

_Como se llama, bonita, mi casa, su casa _

_Shakira, Shakira _

_Oh baby when you talk like that _

_You make a woman go mad _

_So be wise and keep on _

_Reading the signs of my body _

It was a familiar song, and one of Mitchie's favorites. It also helped that she had Spanish blood in her, and she soon found herself dancing a quick tango interpretation with James, moving instinctively closer to her, twirling in a circle when he called for it, bare feet moving effortlessly across the wooden floor.

_Hey Girl, I can see your body moving _

_And it's driving me crazy _

_And I didn't have the slightest idea _

_Until I saw you dancing_

James broke off into his solo, dancing quickly in a spot for the male vocal part of the song, but quickly pulling her into him again.

_And when you walk up on the dance floor _

_Nobody cannot ignore the way you move _

_Your body, girl _

_And everything so unexpected - the way _

_You right and left it _

_So you can keep on shaking it._

She moved her hips close to his, feeling a blush creep to up her neck. This was so unlike her, yet it felt right. A knowing look in his eyes caught her attention, and she dropped into a neat split when it was called for, standing back up again to leap into his arms. He leaned in, and she prepared to pull away, but she didn't need to. The music stopped, and Shane kept his eyes to the ground, "Lesson's over." No one argued. It was a little early, but after the two dances, they felt that they needed some more practice.

Shane 1. James 1.

"So um…" James let her down from their awkward position. "Do you want to grab a drink?"

"Su-"Mitchie was cut off again, by Shane who dropped his CD – on purpose? She didn't know- and spoke harshly, not disguising his dislike for James now that they were _technically_ out of class. "I want Michelle to work on her first part in the dance. She needs a little work."

"Dude, she's perfect!" James' stopping to smile at her, obviously pleased for protecting her from the 'Angry Popstar'.

"Dude, she's _not_." Shane snapped, pushing him towards the door. "Unless you want to stay for a little session as well?" He offered, obviously not meaning for him to say yes.

"See you later, Mitchie." James was out of the door before he finished his sentence.

"Coward," Shane growled. "You stay away from him."

"So obviously we're not going to talk about my dancing." Mitchie was angry. "Is that why you told me to stay back here? So you can tell me who I can or can't dance with?"

"Mitchie!" Shane growled, fists clenched like the night before, obviously trying to suppress his anger. "Did you even _see_ him? Did you see that he was practically salivating over you? Did you see that he wanted to _fuck_ you right on that dance floor?"

Mitchie flinched as Shane cursed, sliding to the floor. He noticed and loosened up immediately. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. "I don't think you know that."

Her eyes started tingling, and she reached over to hug him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Shane 2. James 1.

"You shouldn't be comforting me." He snapped, angry once again. But this time, he was angry at himself. "I promised I wasn't going to hurt you. _I'm _sorry I scared you, Mitch." He sat down and kissed her curls softly, pulling her closer to him as they sat on the cold wooden floor against each other.

**A/N: My gosh, Shane's bipolar. **

**I'm trying to update more often, all right? So how about… if I get 20 reviews, I'll update once more in the next two days? **

**;)**

**Love you all!**

**Survey!**

**Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? **

**What are you being for Halloween? I'm being Alice Cullen. Vampires in the house, baby!**

**Team James or Team Shane? ;) **

**Say hotdog mash. **

**Say golden eyes! **

**And the longest review this time goes tooo….**

_**RainbowVeins! **_** I love this girl so much, go check her out! **

**Keep trying, ya'll. **

**~Erin**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

Mitchie and Shane sat on the glistening dance studio floors as trickles of cold air escaped into the room through the slightly ajar door. Mitchie shivered, pushing her body closer to his.

"You're always real under-dressed, Mitch." He smiled, but put his arms around her, rubbing her shoulders. "Don't you have better clothes?"

"It doesn't exactly get cold down South."

"That means we have a lot of shopping to do, don't we?" Shane hugged her even closer. "We can always skip the movie and get you some decent clothes on Saturday if that's what you would prefer."

"I…" Mitchie let herself trail off. How was she going to explain that, quite frankly, she couldn't afford anything that they sold downtown? She went with a safe, 'don't have enough pocket money.'

"That's all right. I'll get you stuff. You read the fan magazines; Shane Gray is dripping with money."

"I couldn't."

"You could. Because it's going to get even colder and you have at least a month left at this place. You don't want to endure winter here without a proper coat."

"Thank you." She rested her head on his shoulder gratefully. He was doing so much for her, and she had no reason to distrust him.

"You're welcome." Shane kissed her forehead lightly. He was always generous with these, and yet Mitchie didn't feel that he was imposing, instead, she loved his quick impromptu kisses. Everything was moving so quickly and he often hesitated, but she wouldn't allow any of that.

She took time to stare into his chocolate brown eyes, shivering in delight when he looked into her eyes too. "Kiss me." She murmured, and leaned in, feeling the familiar smoothness of his lips against hers.

Abruptly, they heard the door clang open and a large gush of wind blew in. They yanked apart quickly to see a very surprised Caitlyn. "Fucking shit." She cried, slamming the door shut quickly and running across camp in her 3 inch black Steve Maddens.

"That f-" Shane caught himself before he cursed, reminded of Mitchie. She was more polite, and chose to subdue a quick cuss. "What are we going to do?"

He took her hand, and pulled her outside as well. "Find my brother's neurotic girlfriend, and shut her up."

"Easier said than done!" She almost rolled her eyes at his idiocy. No one gossiped more than Caitlyn, and she felt that before long the whole camp would know of their little fling.

"Don't worry. I just need Nate to flip some of his stupid curls at her and she'll crumble. She always does." Shane seemed so sure of himself, and Mitchie almost relaxed for a minute.

He pulled her quickly through the falling leaves and headed straight for his cabin. It figured that Shane would know exactly where Caitlyn would take of in a situation like this- to her boyfriend. As he slammed open the door, he faced a very angry but somewhat confused younger brother.

"Explain." Nate said.

"What am I supposed to explain about kissing?" Shane crossed his arms angrily

"Uncle Brown told you, no _fraternizing_ with the girls at camp!" Nate flailed his arms wildly, in a way that Caitlyn had told Mitchie she found somewhat endearing. The girlfriend in question however, was sitting quietly in a corner, her legs crossed as she perched on Nate's bed.

"You fraternize with your fucking girlfriend!"

Mitchie noticed Caitlyn roll her eyes, not taking Shane's indirect insult to heart. Mitchie however, didn't like Shane arguing, and patted his arm to calm him down. "Can I say something?" She quipped up.

Nate took a deep breath and steadied himself in gentlemanly fashion, "of course."

"I think that Brown is already aware that Shane and I are," she paused to find the right word, "going out."

"You mean fucking." Caitlyn cut in, standing up and walking over. "I warned you, Mitch. I told you that he was going to make you fall for him one way or another, and mark my words, once another prettier, blonder girl like Tess shows up, he is going to dump you just as fast as he _fell in love with you_." She sneered the last sentence, took Nate's arm and opened the door. "Let's go Nate, we have classes to attend."

And they slammed the door in her face.

--------------

Mitchie didn't know what to say when she returned to the girls' shared cabin after dinner. She had skipped dinner and returned to the cabin while everyone else lingered on the mess hall. She was grateful for the warmth of her heated cabin, and draping her green cardigan on her dresser, reached into her luggage for some pajamas. As she was alone, she simply stripped, pulling on her favorite black boxer shorts and an old t-shirt. Feeling the soft cloth against her skin made her feel better, and she decided to get serious about some music, flipping her long hair into a high pony tail. Picking up her guitar, she started strumming various chords, practicing everything that Shane had taught her. She was good, she knew, and everything that he taught was simply added on to her already vast knowledge of all things guitar.

Before she could start singing however, the door swung open, and she flinched as cold air made its way past her. It wasn't Caitlyn, fortunately. Instead, it was Shane, grasping a paper plate with two slices of pizza on it. "You silly girl." He moved, and sat down next to her. "Aren't you hungry?" He placed the food on her dresser, and rubbed her arms again. "Cold? It's much warmer in here."

"Yeah, thank you." She smiled up at him gratefully, still not letting go of her treasured instrument.

"Hey, you know, you're pretty good at this." He placed his large hands over hers, enveloping hers completely. "Want me to show you a song?"

"Sure." Mitchie tried to appear, but somehow yearned for the smooth sound of his singing voice, very different from the deep, boyish tone he used in speech.

"All right then." And he slid the guitar out from under her hands, and stuck up a chord with expertise she had not noticed before.

_Yeah, you caught my eye,_

_As I walked on by._

_You could see from my face that I was,_

_Fucking high,_

_And I knew that I was going to see you again._

_We shared a moment that will last till the end._

_You're beautiful. You're beautiful._

_You're beautiful, it's true._

_I saw your face in a crowded place,_

_And I don't know what to do,_

_'Cause I'll never be with you._

_You're beautiful. You're beautiful._

Mitchie didn't know what to say for a while, and she simply sat there, and finally found something to say. "Plagiarism." She frowned, but cracked up. "I'm kidding; you are a very good James Blunt, Shane. I'm impressed." She didn't mention she secretly hoped that she was the girl that he spoke about in his song. He had sung it for her, changed the words around, and yet, she couldn't be too sure. Shane Gray could get any girl in the world, why did he want her?

But he quickly put down the guitar, and hugged her in a way she could only describe as snuggly-like. "I'm happy you're happy. Because that song was meant for you and you only." And they lay on her bed until they fell asleep, facing each other.

**A/N: **

**I would've updated sooner, but I didn't get the 20 reviews I wanted! C'mon people, tell your friends! I'm really happy with the response I'm getting right now, but I would appreciate hearing all your views on the story. **

**People who are wondering what James looks like, here he is. You may have to remove the spaces in between. **

**www. companybe. com/ Caravan /dsc06176. jpg**

**Survey:**

**1. How are you on this fine day? **

**2. Like it? Hate it? **

**3. Want more fluff? **

**4. Say pink umbrellas.**

**5. Now review! **

**And the winner of longest review? **

_**xoxoemily**_**, Well done, girl.**

**And people, I do word count on each and every review so no worries, kay?**

**~Erin **


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

Saturday. Rest day. Shopping day. Shane day. Mitchie practically sprung out of bed. It was 7 in the morning, and the rest of the camp was still fast asleep. Mitchie hadn't seen much of Caitlyn the past few days. Ever since the big confrontation, Caitlyn had stayed in Nate's cabin. Who knew where Shane had gone? He sat by the lake on most nights, he told her, just thinking or writing. Now that Caitlyn had taken up chief occupation in his cabin, he refused to go back, spending the night outside or on the floor of Mitchie's cabin. She had offered him the bed, but he remained adamant, sleeping on the floor with nothing but a pair of jeans on, with a wad of towels as a cushion. He hadn't been very pleasant to Mitchie either; maybe he didn't know what to say. He _had_ promised to take her shopping on Saturday, though, he couldn't stand her pathetic shivering, he said. Mitchie was bitterly disappointed. It seemed that Nice Shane was gone. And in his place, Jerk Shane was back to stay.

Mitchie flung on a pair of jeans, tucked them into her boots, and wrapped herself in the thickest possible top she could find, a flowy teal one. The weather was getting colder, and she felt a shiver involuntarily escape from her chapped lips. She couldn't wait to find herself in a warm taxi, headed towards town. Caitlyn had left one of her old black coats – old, but nevertheless still expensive- in the shared closet as she had left in haste. Mitchie fingered the material, decided that it wouldn't harm anyone if she borrowed it for just an hour or two, and slipped it on, buttoning it tight across her chest. She had promised to meet Shane by the lake, at their usual place. He told her he would make the rest of the arrangements. They needed to be out as early as possible so that no campers would catch them - that would simply be setting the already-active camp gossip on fire.

Mitchie clomped through the crisp brown and orange leaves, admiring their beauty. She had never quite seen leaves as vibrant as those before. Before she knew it, she was at the lake. Shane had leaned himself against the tree – his raven eyes two beautiful ovals as he looked out across the shimmering water. He was obviously deep in thought. Over what, she did not know. It was obvious today was cold, as their breath sent smoky spirals into the air – even Shane had succumbed to a gray hoodie over his favourite black v-neck. The crunching of leaves soon alerted him to her presence, and he whipped around, smiling. "There you are."

"Here I am," she smiled back. "How long have you been waiting?" she asked, noticing dark circles under his eyes.

"Not too long," he replied after a brief second, and she knew immediately that he was lying. "So." He clasped his hands together awkwardly "Ready to hit the town?"

Mitchie was astounded. She had never met anyone as; well, _rich_, as Shane in her life. He seemed to take everything for granted, almost, as he lolled lazily back in his leather-upholstered limousine -_A limousine? Way to live simply. - _And popped sugar-free Red Bulls out of the built in cooler. His driver had smirked when she got into his car and greeted him a cheery 'good morning', as if he knew something that she didn't. When they got off, Shane instructed him to meet them back in an hour or two with a months' supply of his hair spray, and stepped out of the car, hoodie drawn over his head. "Head down, feet forward." He hissed, and Mitchie soon discovered why. Thousands of flashing lights soon caught her eye. At first she thought she was dying – and then she realized. Paparazzi._ No weekends off for the paparazzo, dear Mitchie. _They were hollering questions, pointing rude gestures, trying to get a reaction, a comment, something. Shane ignored them, up to the point where Mitchie's role was questioned. "New girlfriend, Shane?"

Shane turned, and smiled bitterly. "You people never take a vacation do you? She's a fan; she won a contest, so I take her shopping for the day. Get it? Hey, turn around and smile." At this, he poked Mitchie, but hissed through his teeth: _just act like a fan girl and we'll get through this yet._ So Mitchie turned, plastered her best cheesy grin on her face and made enthusiastic peace-signs at all the cameras.

"Hey this one's kind of hot." She heard one camera man mutter.

"Babe, up for a party at my place later?" Another chuckled.

With that, Shane grabbed her shoulder, whipped her around, and stalked off. "Thank you, gentlemen." The cameras continued to flash as they shut the doors of the nearest boutique. A salesgirl with large, carefully made-up eyes looked up from her magazine, sashaying over. Mitchie noticed she wore the most amazing high heeled boots that she had always wanted but never dared to get. _And she can't be much older than me! _ "Can I be of assistance?" _That's it? No autograph signing, no declaration of love?_ Mitchie was impressed. Then again, this _was_ an infamous celebrity district. That was why the paparazzi had caught on so fast, and why this salesgirl was so clearly normal about the situation.

"Yes," Shane took Mitchie's hand. "I've got a ton of errands to run, and she needs a completely warm winter closet. I'll be back in two hours, and will pay for everything she wants." With that, he kissed her forehead, and ran out before she could even utter an exclamation of horror. To be left alone, in a boutique that she knew was a scratch above Sears?

"You're a lucky girl." She shop girl grinned, and Mitchie finally noticed that she had a Texan accent. "You from Houston?"

"No, Dallas." Mitchie shook her head.

"Close enough." The girl laughed. "Hey, I'm Ellie. I work here in this penitentiary, ah, I mean, _personal style_ boutique. We upgraded from a normal boutique to one that helps you shop for the best stuff just last week. How can I help?"

"I kind of need a coat for winter. But I understand if you have nothing in my budget. Do you know if there's a Wal-Mart around?" Mitchie knew that she was babbling. But she simply could not afford anything in this boutique. Even worse, she could not let Shane pay for everything.

"Girl," Ellie laughed her tinkly laugh again. "Shane Gray has no budget. And Wal-Mart? Are you kidding me? Not with those eyes, and that hair. Oh, and your skin! What facial products do you use?"

"Soap." Mitchie wasn't sure as to the appropriate reply.

"You are an inspiration to us _all_." And with that, Ellie grabbed her hand and whisked her around the room, pointing to rows and rows of dresses and leggings and boots and pants from this designer, and that designer. "Now. Let us get to work." She sat Mitchie down on a cushy leather seat, and leaned in, lips pursed together in thought. "You would look amazing in…" she scrabbled around in some silver painted coats hangers and pulled out the most magnificent vintage coat, in a creamy, gorgeous brown with military detailing in gold. Then she produced a thick, black long-sleeved blouse made of the softest wool Mitchie had ever felt. Soon, some faded light blue distressed jeans were found, and put all together, Mitchie felt like some sort of fashion goddess had erupted from within her. She grinned. "Show me some more."

Almost exactly two hours later, Mitchie and Ellie felt like the best of friends. It turned out Ellie was sharing an apartment with her boyfriend Seth right in the town. She hated her job, but kept it anyway so she could afford rent and not have to move back in with her 'crazy, hippie parents'. She was nineteen, about two years older than Mitchie, and had graduated from high-school with no intention on going to college. "I'm going to start a mega-fashion empire." She said with a satisfied sigh. "When I get enough money, of course." She finished. "So, when is adoring rock star boyfriend coming to pick you up?" They were sitting on the floor, amongst a sea of bagged clothes. Ellie had rung up the total cost, but promised not to tell Mitchie so she wouldn't feel _too_ bad.

Mitchie poked around in her pocket. She had a brand new black heavy-duty coat, so she was feeling pretty enthused about being able to leave a room and not freeze to death. She read his unopened text. _Coming by in 5 minutes. _She was about to dictate the message to Ellie, but the doors were flung open and Shane stepped in, flushed from the cold. He handed Ellie his credit card, and she stepped off the floor and flashed it in a second. "Have a nice day," she chimed, as Mitchie waved goodbye and Shane piled her bags in the back of the car.

"Lets see…" He was rummaging through the bags. "Oh, very nice. I'm impressed. What was her name?"

"Ellie. Ellie Benway."

"Talented girl." He nodded in satisfaction, and Mitchie couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy.

"So, are you satisfied with my clothes now?" Mitchie tried to change the subject.

"Very."

So she snuggled up onto his shoulder and fell asleep on the ride home.

Mitchie was all set to plop back down on her bed, pull her blanket over her feet and fall asleep. But when she opened her cabin door, she knew it was not to be. Caitlyn was there, pacing around the room, her long black cardigan swishing at her thighs. She looked up. "There you are. We need to talk."

**A/N: You guys!  
I'm so sorry I haven't updated in eons.  
So here's a quick update for you guys. **

**Super sorry! **


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**  
**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

"We need to talk." Caitlyn grabbed Mitchie's hand. She wasn't angry. "Sit down." She noticed the bags. "Successful shopping trip?"

"This is creepy, why are we talking?" Mitchie snapped. She was pissed, no, she was more than pissed. She was furious. Why should Caitlyn boss her around?

"Look, Mitchie, I was mean. Okay, I was a bitch. I was a bitch, I admit it. It was a difficult situation, and I said things I shouldn't have…"

"Look, Caitlyn. I don't care anymore." Mitchie dropped her hand. After such a fun morning, she couldn't help but hate Caitlyn for taking the fun out of her. "I thought you were nice. I thought you were my friend. But Caitlyn, you're not any better than any of _them_!"

That blow truly hit home. Caitlyn collapsed onto her bed. Mitchie noticed her eyes welling with tears. _Had I been too harsh? _Apparently not, Caitlyn stood up, brushing at her cheek. "I know. But I still need to talk to you. So sit down." Caitlyn patted the bed, and something in her voice made Mitchie put her bags down and join her.

Caitlyn dropped her gaze. "I was so mad at you, because, well, _I_ used to date Shane. If you can call it dating. He was just always there, and he was so famous. And the things he used to say?" She laughed bitterly. "He cheated on me, Mitchie. He fucking cheated on me when some Audrey-Hepburn-lookalike movie actress showed up. That's right. So for a long while, and now that I think about it, from the beginning, we had nothing. Maybe I was just hoping for something because he used to take me to the most romantic places, and say the most romantic things, and goodness, the se –" She cut herself off. "I'm sorry; I assume you're not quite acquainted with that yet."

Mitchie shook her head, horrified. "Haven't you ever forgiven him?"

"I'm working on it. Every time Nate makes me feel happy, I think I forgive Shane just a little bit more, because through Shane, I met Nate." Caitlyn said. "But you see, I don't want you to get hurt. You just seem so capable of getting hurt and…"

"Say no more." Mitchie hugged Caitlyn tight. "Thank you so much for telling me."

" I should have told you earlier," Caitlyn hugged her back. "Are we friends again?"

"Of course!" Mitchie exclaimed, and stood up happily. She was so happy that everything was cleared up. "And I'm sure Shane and I am going to be fine. Besides, it's one date, Caitlyn. I don't think –"

"Wait." Caitlyn stood up as well. "You're not going to keep on seeing him, are you?"

"Why not? Maybe you guys just weren't meant to be. Besides, wasn't that a long time ago? He's changed, I know he has." She thought back to the nightly meetings and the way he spoke to her – different from the way he spoke to other people.

Caitlyn gaped in response and open and shut her mouth once or twice, as if trying to say something. Then she held up her hands in mock surrender. "Just glad that I warned you." Then she smiled, and played with her brown curls. "So, can I see what you bought?"

Mitchie reached for her bags.

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

After the outing, Shane found himself in his room, shirtless, and face down on his pillow. Why had he been so cold? So distant? He hadn't known what to say to Mitchie while she was with him. _What was it with this girl that made her so different?_ He had left on the pretence on running some errands, got some drinks, and spent an hour walking aimlessly around town with Panic! At The Disco blasting from his headphones. Then he had walked back, found his driver Luke, and sat in the limousine, tapping his feet against the leather. Luke grinned at him from the rear view mirror, so Shane rolled his eyes and sprang up to look for Mitchie. He was impressed by the shop girl and her choices for Mitchie, but she was more surprised to see Mitchie dressed the way she was. He had thought that new clothes would have made her look more ordinary, more like all the other girls he saw. But no, she just looked more beautiful, more unique, and even harder to stay away from. She was irresistible. He had managed to get back to camp, biting his tongue in the car. What he had wanted to say, he did not know. But he knew he wanted to say something, anything. Just then, he found the door of his room swing open. He thought it was Nate. So he raised his middle finger to the door, and instead was greeted with a soft giggle. _What the fuck. _He jumped up, and pulled his shirt over his head.

"No, leave it off." He saw Tess Tyler standing at the door, her blonde hair cascading down to her shoulders.

"Why are you here?" He growled.

"I wanted to ask you for help with my dance steps." She narrowed her big blue eyes.

"Seriously?" he asked. "Or is this just another excuse to spring into my cabin?" He snapped. "You could easily have asked me about it in class."

"Well yes," Tess nodded, but then I wouldn't have all your undivided attention on me." She stepped towards him.

"Is attention all you really crave, Tess?" Shane sat up, disgusted.

"I crave yours." And she had started kissing him.

Shane was going to push her away. Her lips were like acid, burning through him like some corrosive substance. But she was so easy, to just take right there, and maybe, maybe, she would help him forget about Mitchie. Mitchie with her eyes, and her hair, and her laugh, so unlike Tess. He kissed her back, fiercely, angrily. _No. Stop. _He broke away, voice thick with bitterness. She was not _Mitchie_. "Leave."

She was surprised, rightly so. She was furious. She had almost got him, the most sought-after boy on campus. "Sha-"

"Leave. Now." And he retreated to the bathroom, slamming the door. He leaned his hot forehead against the cold mirror. He had almost given in. Almost, not quite. _I'm sorry. _He didn't know who he was apologizing to. To Mitchie? She wasn't there with him. She would never know. He would make sure she never knew. To himself? He didn't know. Another part of him would have loved to have Tess all over him. But one part, a newer, foreign, part, said no. _Fuck my life. _He turned on the cold shower, not caring if he had all his clothes on. The water fell over him, flowing down his body, soaking him through his shirt. _Mitchie Torres_. Her name rang heavy in his ears. What was wrong with him? No one could give him the answer.

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Shane stepped into his Advanced Guitar class Monday morning, his Gibson Le Paul electric guitar gripped fiercely in his right hand, his hair perfectly straight. He noticed Mitchie in a beautiful flowy dress, her translucent black stockings tucked into her boots. His eyes flashed to the coat hanger near the door. Her black pea coat hung there, and he suddenly remembered everything from Saturday. She was concentrating on her own acoustic guitar instead of on him, and for that he was glad. He had been avoiding her like crazy, and he knew she wanted to ask him why. Then he noticed Tess. She was staring him down. He dropped eye contact, and started the class. "Let's start." And he plugged his iPhone into the speakers, and blasted the song for the day, ignoring the pairs of eyes fixated on him.

**A/N: Wanted to rush a chapter since I had the time.  
Only three reviews so far.  
I'm kind of disappointed.**

**I'm not going to update after this unless I get at least 5.  
I'm sorry, but I feel sort of demoralized.  
Serves me right for not updating for so long. **

**Thank you to **_HARSH, xoxoemily_** and **_headintheclouds14_**.**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

Shane dropped his guitar. It had been a good guitar class. His students were hardworking, they tried hard, and they had potential. They were typical Camp Rock campers. They were practically trained to be musicians. But he knew that only a select few would really succeed. As for Mitchie, he refused to think too much of her, but everything about her caught his attention. Her little head bobs when she played along, her smile when she got something right and even her pout when she messed up – this was not very often, of course. As he dropped his guitar in its case, he heard the sound of boots clack against the wood, and inwardly groaned. He turned around, praying that it was Mitchie, and then cursing himself for praying that it was her. It was her, and she stood there, arms folded, auburn hair draped over her right shoulder. "Well?" She asked, tapping her foot.

"Yes." He replied, dreading the question that he knew was coming.

"Shane!" She exclaimed, and turned her head in exasperation, and when her eyes focused back on him he noticed the tears welling up in them. "What's happening? Why are you ignoring me? I thought we were okay."

_Oh dear. _Shane walked over and put her arms around her. "Mitch." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry. I had no idea. I didn't know…" he trailed off. "I promised I wouldn't hurt you, guess I kind of failed."

"Just explain. Explain and tell me that you're bored of me. That Saturday was just a little favor and that you have found someone else. Stop pretending like I'm not here!" She stamped her foot in impatience.

"Mitchie." he hugged her tighter. "I didn't find someone else. Why would you think that? I haven't been talking to you because Brown doesn't like me talking to girls in camp. You know that." He lied, not wanting to tell her the real reason. _When you lie so often, it becomes almost routine._ He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, and kissed her gently. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, I really didn't think that you would just come to _that_ conclusion."

"Well," She let him wipe away her tears and raised her head off his chest to look at him. "But I talked to Caitlyn…" She didn't finish her sentence and Shane wanted to just _die_.

"I should really have told you about that, but I didn't know how to bring it up." He looked down, ashamed to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry." Her repeated pathetically.

"Maybe this isn't worth it, Shane." He felt her struggle against his grip, so she released her and she stepped away. "I came here to play music. Not… whatever we're doing."

"No." The harsh tone of his own voice startled him. He found himself grabbing her shoulders and stopping her from walking away. "Whatever fucked up mistakes I've made in the past Mitchie, I'll fix it. I'll work so that I don't act all bipolar and hurt you anymore. We can do this. Don't ever _ever_ say that what we've got isn't worth it. Because it's something special. And I'll change." He ended his sentence, stared her in the eyes, and started crying himself. He didn't know why, but he just did. Maybe it was because of how much he meant what he had just said; maybe it was because he meant it so much it hurt. He didn't know what to do. But her mouth enveloped his and they clung onto each other for all they could. They could make it work, and they would.

...

The next few days were painful. Mitchie did all she could to not be around Shane so much. She could tell he had things on the mind. But it was like he had disappeared from the face of the earth all together. And for some reason or another, she found herself wanting him more and more as the days past. It was distracting her from her music, and that was why she took James up on his offer for coffee. But as she sat next to him next to the lake with a steaming container of Starbucks, she couldn't help but wish it was Shane sitting with her.

"So how's everything going with you?" He rests his hand on her knee and she ignores it.

"I'm fine. Camp Rock's been really good to me." She smiled at his good-looking face, admired his blond hair, and then inwardly mused that she liked black hair more.

"That's good. If only all the girls were as pretty as you." James smirked and reached to put his arm around her. She moves away, putting a hand up in protest.

"James. You're a nice guy, but I'm good with being friends for now. All right?" She stood up, and prepared to walk away, empty coffee container cast on the ground.

"I forgot about you and that Shane guy." James stood up as well, and picked up her container, tossing it in the nearest trash can. _Environmentalist. How impressive. Not. _"I'm sorry, Mitch. We can be just friends if you want us to be. You're fun to hang out with." He tucked his hands into his jeans pockets, and looked apologetic. He stood still, and didn't try to walk over to Mitchie. She took a deep breath. Maybe they could really just be friends. Shane was making her paranoid. "Okay."

...

Shane slammed his fists against the glass of his bathroom window. He had gone in for some privacy. Who thought he would see Mitchie. _His_ beautiful Mitchie, with James. The fucktard. He let out a demonized yell, punching the window hard. They didn't seem to notice him, and he knew he couldn't very well go out there and rip James apart. It would put him in the wrong, and Mitchie's already fragile impression of him would crumble. They hugged as she got up to leave. He moaned, and sank to his feet.

Shane 2. James 2.

**A/N:  
Hey! I know this is very short, and many apologies, but I'm still trying to have a life and all that. But I'm really really happy that I got 10 reviews from the last time and I want to thank **_**yourdorkisabel**_**, for the longest review this time. I love hearing from you guys, and I'm hoping to find time to update again soon. If you read this whole chunky author's note say kissingintherain in your review! **

**Thanks muchly,**

** Erin. **


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**  
**Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

The next day, Mitchie found herself having lunch with Caitlyn and Nate. Shane usually sat by himself at the mess hall, in one corner picking at his salad and soup. He never ate much, and occasionally just grabbed a sandwich and left. He was not popular with the student body, despite being the youngest trainer there was, and he didn't seem to care very much either. Mitchie ate her rubbery chicken thoughtfully, stealing glances at Shane across Caitlyn's head on Nate's shoulder. What she liked best about sitting at their table was that the two were often so absorbed with the other person that they barely noticed that she was there. She wouldn't need to carry out conversation or pretend to listen to conversation. She could just watch him. That was until James grabbed his tray, his meal, and sat down next to her. "I hope you don't mind." He smiled.

Caitlyn immediately snapped to attention, pulling her head off Nate's shoulder, and fixing her hair where he had mussed it. "He's cute!" She mouthed at Mitchie behind her hand.

"Shut up, Cait." Mitchie growled under her breath, noticing Nate's eyebrows raise. According to Caitlyn, Shane and Nate were on speaking terms once again, though not necessarily the best of friends. Nate turned his head, and acknowledged James with a head nod and a 'sup.' Feeling encouraged, James then started up a conversation with Caitlyn and Nate-about Guitar Hero or something. Mitchie stared past them and at Shane, who didn't seem to be paying much attention to her. She felt herself wanting to slide her tray aside, walk over and make out with him right there and then on the mess hall table. _Oh my goodness, I'm turning into Caitlyn! _She soon tried to abandon that thought, and instead focused on his eyes, and not, well, his _lips_. He had finished his salad, and was drawing circles in his soup bowl with his spoon, and nonchalantly looked up. She dropped her eyes back down to her plate so he wouldn't notice her. At that point, Caitlyn let out a low chuckle, which pretty much set the rest of her lunch table laughing. Obviously Nate had made another lame joke that she had been fortunate to not hear. She smiled politely, and rolled her eyes at James, who rolled his eyes back, as if to say 'would you listen to the crazy rock star?" and they both laughed for real.

"God, I love you." Caitlyn kissed Nate on the cheek and he instead started tickling her, making her almost double over. "No, stop it! God! You _ass._" She scowled at Nate, but her scowl soon broke into a teasing smile and she leaned back down on his shoulder. A stab of jealousy shot through Mitchie. Caitlyn was so lucky. Her eyes strayed over to Shane again. He caught her glance, and she was about to turn away when he stood up, and walked out of the hall. Mitchie leaned back in her seat, and let out a relieved 'phew'.

"What was that?" James asked, and she soon snapped back to reality.

"Nothing." She lied, and pretended to reach for a drink. "Oops. I must have forgotten to get a drink. I should go get one." She started to stand up but James caught her chair.

"No worries, I've got it. Pretty girls don't need to get their own iced coffee." He smiled and got up, long legs striding across to the vending machines. Caitlyn leaned over, her curly hair falling around her face, her eyes big and questioning. "He's getting you coffee! I won't be surprised if I find him in your bed one morning."

"Caitlyn!" Mitchie hissed, aware of how many people may have heard.

"Oh what? It's true, isn't it? I'd rather find him there than Mr. Tight Jeans Shane." She rolled her eyes at the empty table which Shane had occupied.

"Oh."Mitchie paused for a beat. "You noticed he was here?"

Caitlyn took a sip of her drink, her eyes looking up at Mitchie. "Mhmm. I noticed _you_ were looking too."

"God." Mitchie let her face fall to the table. Nate and Caitlyn laughed, and Caitlyn lolled her head against his once again. She turned to her boyfriend, and pinched his nose.

"Your brother doesn't do your family much credit does he?"

"Well," Nate gently moved her head off his shoulder. "You may be surprised, but he was always my mom's favorite. He was a good boy, focused on his music, his family, and then one year, no one knew what happened, and everything went downhill from there." He sighed, and ran his hand through his short curls.

"He never told you?" Mitchie asked.

"Never told anyone." Nate looked up at her, and shook his head. "I wish I knew, though. Might've been able to give him a hand there, though I have a feeling it had something to do with one of his ex-girlfriends."

"Oh the _poor soul_." Caitlyn opened her eyes wide, mouth slack with sympathy. Two pairs of questioning eyes turned to her, and she laughed. "You should see your faces, I meant the ex-girlfriend!" And she collapsed in a fit of laughter, her curls bouncing and she giggled. Mitchie and Nate exchanged sympathetic glances, and Nate grabbed Caitlyn by her shoulders. "Guess I'm going to have to do something drastic to shut her up." So he kissed her. Mitchie felt a carving at her stomach once again. Fortunately, James arrived back with her iced Vanilla Latte and sat down next to her. "Hey." He grinned, placing the drink in front of her. "Sorry I took so long. Some guy in front was taking forever finding the right change. Oh hey, when did they start mating?" He flicked a napkin at them. "Oh, get a room!" Nate and Caitlyn broke apart.

"Thanks James," Caitlyn smiled. "Don't expect me to give you and Mitchie some privacy if I find you guys making out in _my_ cabin."

Mitchie blushed, and concentrated very hard on her drink, but James laughed, and tapped his temple. "I will remember that, Miss Gellar. So, anyway." He turned his chair towards Mitchie. "There's an open mike night today, 8.30 in the mess hall. Will you be singing?"

"What?" Mitchie feigned ignorance. "Oh, no. I don't even have anything to sing."

"Liar." Caitlyn coughed loudly.

"What was that, Caitlyn?" James asked, cupping his hand to his ear. "I'm concerned, Miss Torres, that you're not being very honest with me."

"Okay," Mitchie raised her hands in surrender. "I know when I'm beaten."

"So you'll let me hear a song?" James grinned.

"Hang on," Caitlyn stood up sharply, dragging Nate up with her. "I just remembered we're going to have hot sex on a piano so Mitchie, you can take James to our cabin and play him a little song. How about, say, Falling Over Me?" and with that, she walked out with Nate in tow. "Bye bye now…"

"Did you really mean that, about the piano?" Mitchie heard Nate ask, and laughed. "Those two." She pointed at them.

"So yeah," James took her hand, and pulled her up. She dropped his hand. "Let's go over to your cabin and hear that song."

Mitchie didn't know what she was doing. They were both sitting on her bed, and she had her guitar in her hand, but there was no way in hell she wanted to sing a song for James. Especially not _that_ song.

"Just give it a shot." He smiled. She took a deep breath.

_I'm standing in the center of the room_

_I watching boys follow girls' perfume_

_All is as it should be I assume_

_Except for the distance between me and you_...

She trailed off. She opened her mouth to say, no, she couldn't do it, it was just too personal. And then he was kissing her.

…...

Shane found himself ten minutes after leaving the mess hall kicking at a tree by the lake. He knew that no irritating fan girls would be there, no guys who hated him for being who he was. He had rushed out because he had noticed Mitchie looking at him. Her eyes were like little candles beaming in their socketsand it only reminded him of the first night where he had brought her, drunk, to his room and had given her his bed for reasons unknown to him. He picked his way through fallen leaves back to the center of camp, the cabins, and he glanced at Mitchie's cabin for a split second.

…...

Mitchie did not like the position she was in. She pushed James away carefully, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry."

James looked confused. "Wait, wasn't that song for me?" _Egoistical Maniac hint number one. _

"No," Mitchie shook her head, and was going to explain when her door slammed open and she saw Shane standing in the door frame, hands clenched. "Shane?" she asked, not quite sure of what she saw.

"Blondie!" Shane shouted at James who had scrambled off Mitchie's bed. "You have exactly 10 seconds to leave this room before I tear your head off its fucking neck."

**A/N: Oh, I love Shane.**

**And for all the lovely people who kept requesting for Naitlyn fluff, there you go.**

**I would have put this up earlier but my computer was at a repair shop.**

**10 reviews! You guys! I'm so proud!**

**And okay, I might be away for a while, so can I say, 15 more reviews for the next chapter? Much obliged, you guys! **

**Also, I am quite surprised by the small number of you that read the Author's Note. Oh well. Say **_**Fingerprints**_** if you read this. **


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12****  
Disclaimer: The writer does not own Camp Rock, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, Alyson Stoner, and anyone else mentioned in the story.**

James took to his feet and ran out of the cabin. Shane let out a low, vicious chuckle, and walked over to kiss Mitchie on the forehead but she pulled away. "Why were you kissing him, huh?" He sounded particularly wounded, and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Shane…" she shook her head. She couldn't believe he chose this time to suddenly appear and be the superhero. "I've been looking for you. I barely see you anymore."

"That's not true. You see me in the mess hall when I have lunch, you see me in class all the time. But you didn't answer me the first time. Why'd you kiss Blondie? Why'd you kiss him?" he trailed off, staring off into the distance, and then he hugged her tight.

"Shane, you know meeting you in class is different from meeting you, like, well, now." Mitchie buried her face in his neck. "And _he_ kissed _me_. Not the other way around. He heard one of my songs, and I guess he just thought it was about him."

"You write songs?" Shane pulled away from the hug to look at Mitchie quickly. I didn't know that."

"Shane," Mitchie smiled tolerantly. "This _is_ Camp Rock, after all."

"Well," Shane looked around and grabbed Mitchie's guitar off the floor. "Why don't you let me hear one? What's this? Falling Over Me?"

"Uh, no." Mitchie blushed and grabbed the sheet music from him. "That's stupid. I can sing you something else."

"No…" Shane took the thin piece of paper back from her. This is a good song. Trust me. I'm your instructor, aren't I?"

Mitchie looked up at his chocolate-y brown eyes and smiled a weak smile. "Fine." She said, and pretended to take a peek at the paper even though she already knew the lyrics.

_I can't believe that night turned to today,  
I used a line you were supposed to say.  
And all the names that brought us here,_

_We know we have to thank. _

_Who you are is falling over me, _

_Who you are has got me on my knees,  
I'm hoping, I'm waiting, I'm praying, _

_You are the one. _

Shane kissed her once she finished singing. They fell onto her bed, but he stopped soon. It was strange. He didn't kiss her aggressively, or like he wanted to get in her pants. He kissed her like he, well, she was afraid to put a word to it. She was afraid he loved her. Because, quite simply, she didn't know she was good enough for him. And that was what worried her most of all.

"That was a, uh, it was a good song." Shane came up for air, and moved a curl that was dangling in front of her face behind her ear. "You look absolutely beautiful today."

Mitchie smiled. She was only wearing a short gray v-neck with a pair of black skinny jeans and flat boots. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

Shane laughed, and rolled up the sleeves of his maroon colored sweater. "You're a good songwriter. And you have a good voice. You should sing tonight. There's an open mike at 8:30."

"Like I don't know already," Mitchie rolled her eyes. "Caitlyn wanted me to go with her. She's going to perform."

"You should go with her."

"I can't Shane. I just can't." Mitchie pleaded.

"And why, not?" Shane asked, her brown eyes growing dark. "It's not like you're not any good, Mitch. You're fantastic. Don't ever think for a minute you're not."

"Okay." Mitchie hesitated in answering him. She reached for her oversized white cashmere sweater. "Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked. "I'm going over to your cabin. Caitlyn's over there with Nate and we have class in half an hour."

"Let's go." Shane grabbed his black coat.

…...

They found Caitlyn and Nate lying on the couch – _with their clothes on, thank God_. Caitlyn had already set a large vat of popcorn on the table in front of them, and was playing a game on her iPhone. Nate looked over her curly head and laughed at whatever she was doing. "The birds look so cute when they fly through the air."

"I know!" Caitlyn laughed back. She sat up when Mitchie and Shane came in, smiling and Mitchie and sending a sarcastic grin in Shane's direction. "Great that you're here, Mitch. I was just going to go look for you." He stood up, and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the box. "Want some?" She handed them to Mitchie, who popped the buttery snack into her mouth.

"Thanks Cait." She smiled, and hung up her coat.

"No, don't take off your coat! Let's jam. We've got some time to kill. You can grab your guitar. I'm pretty sure one of the practice rooms is available. Nate's coming, and I guess _you_ can come too." This last statement was directed at Shane, who excitedly grabbed his own electric guitar off his bed.

"That's actually a good idea." Shane strapped the guitar over his chest and grinned. "C'mon, Mitchie." He clapped Nate on the back when Nate picked up his 4-string bass. "We can be a band."

"Guys…" Mitchie whined. She didn't feel confident of singing with other people at _all_. Can't we just go to class early or hang out here?"

"Mitch." Caitlyn groaned. "It's just us. You can trust us. How else are you going to put up a fantastic show at final jam if you don't practice now?"

"Whatever." Mitchie said softly, but stood up and grabbed her coat again.

"Yeah! Mission Make Mitchie Sing is officially in order!" Caitlyn laughed, and they walked out of the cabin.

…..

Shane watched as Mitchie fidgeted with her guitar strap. Her light brown acoustic guitar looked particularly stunning against her hair, and he smiled another one of his secret smiles. His smiles, in fact, which he had never told anyone, were on account of the fact that he, had never ever met a girl like Mitchie – so humble, and so beautiful without even trying. "You're great." He spoke, and she turned her curly head. "Don't worry about it, all right? Let's just do an easy song. All right, Caitlyn, Nate?" He flipped through some songs on his iPod. "How about Breakeven? You know that one, don't you?" He mentioned one of her favorite Script songs.

She nodded silently, and bit her lip.

"Great, then we'll give it a shot." He smiled encouragingly, and struck up an E-minor chord. Caitlyn quickly caught on, and started some amazing chords herself on the keyboard. Nate soon joined in with the drums, and Shane started to sing first. He figured that Mitchie might need a bit of prompting anyway.

_I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing, _

_Just pray to a god that I don't believe in.  
I got time while she got freedom, _

_Because when her heart breaks, no, it don't break even. _

He noticed that Mitchie wasn't singing, and looked her straight in the eye. "Go" he mouthed, when the interlude kicked in, and she hesitantly opened her mouth just in time for the chorus.

_And, what am I gonna to do when the best part of me was always you and_

_What am I suppose to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay,_

_I'm falling to pieces _

_(One still in love while the other ones leaving)_

_I'm falling to pieces._

_('Cause when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven)_

She joined in at the perfect moment, and her own low voice matched the harmony of his. They finished the song, both perfectly in sync with the other, and eventually cut her keyboard chords and just let their voices sing acapella along with the occasional thumping of Nate's bass.

"Woah." Caitlyn smiled when the song ended. "Now _that_ is the voice of this year's final jam winner."

"I agree completely." Shane fist-punched Nate. "Winner!"

"You guys…." Mitchie protested, but let out a big grin, reaching over to hug Shane. "Thank you so much."

…...

Tess Tyler pursed her lips together, tapping her French-manicured nails against her lap. She would have to do something soon. Things were not going the way she wanted, and she was certainly going to have to take things to a whole new level. She turned away from the practice rooms, blonde hair flashing as Mitchie- fucking- Torres hugged the man that was rightfully hers.

**A/N:**

**Hola! Sorry for the late update, I've been bombarded with so much in the real world. How have you all been so far?  
Does anyone think Mitchie and Shane should do anymore songs?  
****And can anyone feel any tension a-buzzin?**

**Let me know in a review!  
****Erin.**


	14. Note

Hey guys.

I know you were all hoping for a new chapter,

But I'm about to give you some not very pleasant news.

I've thought about it long and hard,

And I think I'm going to be abandoning this fanfiction for good.

I have another fanfiction, and that is /~inntrigue.

But I'm only keeping that one alive to get story alerts and maybe, maybe, after I've sorted out my own shit I'll get back to writing.

I hope you understand, and aren't too angry that I couldn't finish this story.

I want to write to make myself happy for a while,

And that's all I can deal with right now.

Thank you all so much for the support and reviews, and alerts and favorites.

They will always mean so much to me.

Love always,

Erin.


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